


ready in five

by misskatieleigh



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-24
Updated: 2008-05-24
Packaged: 2017-12-12 19:46:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misskatieleigh/pseuds/misskatieleigh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>comment porn written in response to a fic written by beadattitude on LJ - go read that first : http://beadattitude.livejournal.com/324737.html. </p><p>Basically just porn. Does what it says on the tin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ready in five

**Author's Note:**

> this is old, just moving stuff here for archiving

John’s ready in five, heart jumping in his chest as he lies as still as possible on his bed. He has his legs spread and he’s already slick waiting for Rodney to settle between his knees, hoping for more than he was promised and willing to settle for his fingers as a substitute if Rodney holds his ground.

Rodney’s first breath as he steps in John’s room is a gasp, his body coming to a full stop just inside the doorway. The hissed ’fuck’ sends a shiver through John, gliding over his skin like the promise of hand and mouth that he only hopes will follow. John doesn’t move though, waiting for Rodney to stumble into the room pulling at boots and shirt with an intense concentration on naked, as soon as possible.

John forces back a smirk when Rodney finally settles onto the bed, a flush creeping across Rodney’s cheeks and down his chest that might be arousal or low grade fever. He feels a little bit bad, asking Rodney to strain his voice even further, especially since he can’t imagine Rodney ever being quiet. Even in sleep Rodney’s body speaks a thousand words, from post-coital sprawl to off-world tense. His dick however, doesn’t feel bad at all, jumping as Rodney skims slightly chilled fingertips up the length of his calf.

The gruff cadence is still a shock, like ten rough fingers wrapping around his body in one long stroke. It shouldn’t turn John on so much that it’s matched by an equally intense arrogance in Rodney’s eyes – the exact knowledge that John’s laid himself out bare and waiting for just the tease of Rodney’s voice. John’s long accepted his body’s affinity for Rodney’s quirks though, so he lets the challenge lie – this time the arrogance is well deserved.

“God, look at you. Couldn’t wait for me to get here, could you? Couldn’t stop yourself from pushing your fingers inside, from opening yourself up for me.”

Rodney’s hands slide higher, warming as they leech heat from his skin, rounding over the bump of his knee and skidding slightly as they pass over a slick of lube that didn’t quite meet the right destination. Rodney clucks his tongue at that, tapping his fingertips against the spot again.

“Little sloppy there, John. That’s okay; I like you a bit messy.”

It’s true in more ways than one, all the things about John that the Air Force frowns on are the ones that make Rodney’s gaze linger – non-regulation hair, defiant smirk, just shy of suicidal attitude toward flying, loyalty that can’t be measured with any of Rodney’s graphs or formulas. There isn’t much about being with John that’s simple, nothing beyond the stroke of Rodney’s hands over his skin and the rasp of Rodney’s voice in John’s ear.

“Don’t zone out on me now, Sheppard. I believe you promised me a show in exchange for my trouble.”

Rodney’s voice drags him back from his mind’s wandering, a sudden sharp focus on every point of contact between their skin and John’s back pressed against the slightly rough weave of military issue sheets, as if the metal ‘round his neck isn’t enough of a reminder of the number of regs he’s in violation of right this second.

John clears his throat, choking out a noise that might be an apology as he reaches down to take his dick in hand, thumb rubbing through the precome gathered at the slit on the drag down. Rodney’s hands are a solid weight on his thighs, as heavy as the weight of his gaze following the stroke of John’s hand.

“There, just like that now. God, you look so good like this John. Look so good when you’re doing this for me.”

And just like that John’s hips are arching up off the bed, chasing toward Rodney’s mouth in sharp jerks as he strips his hand over his cock faster. One of Rodney’s hands has moved further up his thigh now, tracing the sensitive skin on the inside of his leg with clever fingers.

“This is what you wanted isn’t it? This is what you were thinking about when you slicked yourself up before. You were thinking of my fingers, of my cock inside you. Am I right, John? Tell me. Tell me you want me inside you.”

Now its John’s voice that isn’t working, his head jerking out what he hopes is a yes. He figures he must have answered correctly though when Rodney circles his hole and pushes in with two fingers, angling to find his prostate on the first slide. He finds it, of course, Rodney’s always precise with his hands, whether he’s tangling with Ancient technology or driving John insane. He matches John’s rhythm with ease, a sharp spike of pleasure layering on top of the steady burn that’s building in John’s spine.

“Come on, John. Come. You said before – now let’s see the payoff. Come, now.”

And John’s a man who keeps his promises, his back curving off the bed as come pools over his hand and strips his belly.

“Fuck.”

John has to force his eyes open at the harsh noise Rodney makes, the flush of arousal in his cheeks quickly replaced by embarrassment as John realizes not all the come on his stomach is his own. He grins, lazy because it’s all he can muster, tugging at Rodney’s hand until his weight is laid out over John’s body.

“Next week, when I’m sick, I promise I’ll return the favor.”

John doesn’t miss the shiver that Rodney tries to suppress, reaching with his feet for the blanket he’d pushed out of the way earlier. He presses a kiss against Rodney’s temple, tugging the blanket higher over Rodney’s shoulders as he sleeps.


End file.
